


summer showers

by asexuelf



Series: at the end of yesterday [2]
Category: Sally Face (Video Games)
Genre: Blood and Gore, Childhood Trauma, Diane Fisher's Death, Established Relationship, Eye Trauma, Flashbacks, Goth Travis Phelps (Sally Face), Gun Violence, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Medical Trauma, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Trauma, Violence, gizmo rights!, yikes this ones kinda dark
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-02
Updated: 2020-09-02
Packaged: 2021-03-06 18:40:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,240
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26243554
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/asexuelf/pseuds/asexuelf
Summary: The summer rain sogs his converse: his red-and-black Crow Kid sneakers sank into the dirt like quicksand. His world has stopped turning, but he'd felt so dizzy. He feels dizzy.
Relationships: Sal Fisher & Gizmo, Sal Fisher/Travis Phelps
Series: at the end of yesterday [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1906528
Comments: 3
Kudos: 33





	summer showers

**Author's Note:**

> a sort-of sequel to [vast](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26193544) ! they can be read separately without any confusion :3
> 
> warnings for this fic: ptsd flashback, graphic violence, gore, gun violence, murder, death of a parent, abuse by a parent, neglect, alcohol addiction, medical abuse, aaaand... that's about the crux of it, i think. tread lightly, lol.
> 
> i hope you enjoy!

Sal always hated the rain. He'd almost hoped that when they left Jersey, Dad would move them to the desert - or anyplace without rain. Even the moon would suffice, so long as those awful memories would never come back. So long as he could forget.

The summer rain sogs his converse: his red-and-black Crow Kid sneakers sank into the dirt like quicksand. His world has stopped turning, but he'd felt so dizzy. He feels dizzy.

The awful stench of wet earth - the earth they'd put her into. And the rain. All that rain, hot and wet like her blood on his cheeks, his blood on his cheeks, his cheeks blown to bits all around them.

Sal guesses it should be the same whether it rains or not. They may have buried Diane Fisher in the rain, lowered her casket into a watery grave, but she died with sunlight touching her face. At least, he thinks she did. He couldn't see then; his face had already been torn apart and the eye that wasn't destroyed was clenched tight as he screamed.

As she screamed.

"S...l…? Sal…?"

A hand brushes his shoulder and he nearly screams again. _Don't hurt me, please! Don't take Mommy away._

Sal blinks himself into clarity.

They're standing in the rain.

Travis is in that awful new shirt he bought, fishnet top beneath it, and the silver zippers littered his new pants glisten wetly. He's holding an umbrella, a large purple one, and it's held only over Sal, leaving all of Travis but his right forearm to be soaked by the falling rain.

His bleached hair is slicked down dorkily to his forehead. That's the thing that really grounds Sal in the moment: how stupid and cut his boyfriend is when his hair is wet. Despite his black clothes, he doesn't look like anybody at the funeral.

"I love you," Sal tells him.

Travis only blinks back, his water-smudged eyeliner making his worried eyes look even wider. "Angel, are you _okay?_ You weren't with me."

If he were less foggy, more flesh, Sal would have to feel bad about that. Guilty for worrying Travis, guilty for making him wait, guilty for not being good when Dad needed him to be. Guilty for lying about who hurt Mommy.

Sal looks in Travis' eyes again. "Can I tell you a secret? The doctor's can't know."

That worry drops into horror. "Y-Yeah. Of course, Sally, you can tell me anything. Let's go inside and get warm and you can tell me everything I need to know."

"No." Has he ever said 'no' to Travis before? Has he ever said 'no' at all? "I don't… It can't wait. They'll hear us if we go inside."

Travis rolls his lip between his teeth. He'll get black lipstain all over his white teeth, but he probably doesn't care. The teeth are mostly dentures anyways, like his. He can rinse the dirt off of them in the rain. They can rinse the blood off her skin. Sal can't rinse the blood off his skin.

"Sal? Did you hear me?"

"I'm sorry."

"It's okay. Can I stand under the umbrella with you?"

Daddy didn't bring an umbrella. He just smelled sad, like grown up drink. Someone else had to drive them, but Sal doesn't remember their face, their name.

He almost laughs. He doesn't remember his face.

"...Sal? Angel?"

"Yes. Yeah, please." He doesn't remember what Travis asked him, or what Travis likes on his sandwich, pizza, burger, salad, or who the note in the bathroom was address to.

He remembers Mommy yelling. He remembers her ribcage slicing into his cheek, hitting his teeth and piercing his tongue. He remembers the doctors telling him it was a dog. A dog, stray, scared. Teeth like shotgun rounds. Tall, like Daddy.

Angry, like Daddy.

"Travis, can I tell you?"

"Yeah, angel. I'm ready."

Sal doesn't know how to say the words. His lip wobbles. What's left of his lip. "He killed her."

Travis is very quiet. He stares - blank, expectant. Waiting.

"It was… Don't tell, okay? Promise me you won't tell them what I said."

"I promise. I'll keep it secret."

Good. Sal doesn't want the people at the hospital to sigh at him. He doesn't want Dad to be angry.

"It wasn't a dog that killed Momm- my mother. It was a man. He shot her."

Travis swears.

"Language," Sal says. It doesn't sound like his voice. "They told me, 'You wanted to pet the dog, but it was wild. It attacked you.'" A gasp, though if he makes the sound or Travis does is beyond him. "It wasn't… I always didn't like dogs. Even then."

"But why would they lie?"

Not a denial. Not anger. Just: _why?_

Sal is sobbing. Has he been sobbing?

"It's not my fault," he says. He thinks he might be screaming. "The man- in the- in the-"

" _Shh_ , easy, Sally. Breathe, then tell me. Okay? Breathe."

It takes a little while, but Sal remembers the breathing the doctors showed him. He doesn't know if it helps.

"You okay, angel? Are you sure you don't want to go inside?"

"No." He isn't sure what he means. But realization strikes; fear floods his veins. "Yes, inside. Please. He's here."

Travis' eyes grow somehow larger. He looks around wildly, panicked, but says nothing. The Dog Man is good at hiding. He won Sal and Mommy's game of Hide and Seek.

Suddenly, Travis is shaking out his umbrella to close it. It's yellow here, not like the grey of the rain - they're inside now. Indoors.

"Travis?" he calls. "Did you hear my secret?"

"I did, angel." The umbrella is gone. Travis kisses the ceramic of his new face. "I won't tell anybody. I'll protect you from the man."

"No! No! No!"

Mommy is bleeding. Mommy is in the ground. Mommy is in the hospital, but nobody will tell him when she's coming home.

Daddy is so, so angry.

Mommy isn't coming home.

Mommy is pushing him, hugging him tight so the Dog Man's gun only hits her.

Sal is in the hospital. Mommy's bones are like shards of glass. His face hurts.His face _hurts,_ but there's no more Mommy to make it better.

They're in a different room now. It's familiar and safe and Gizmo is purring so loud that he can't hear his own thoughts. His breathing is labored, his chest aching, and his heart beats faster than the rhythmic beeps of the machine they stuck him to.

"Shit," he chokes.

"You're okay now, Sal," Travis is saying, has been saying. "You're safe. No one's going to hurt us here. I won't play the hero, okay? We'll stay in here, safe and sound."

Sal listens. Sal listens like he's never heard anything so important.

Gizmo's purr is so loud.

He laughs a little, still breathless. Still scared. "Good kitty. Good Gizmo."

"Is Gizmo helping?"

Sal nods slowly. Gizmo has always helped. When Daddy- _Dad_ slept all day, passed out drunk, it was Gizmo who knocked cereal boxes off the fridge, who stared at Sal's medicines until he took them, who laid on Sal's lap and purred and purred and purred so he wouldn't hurt himself.

"Smart kitty," he whispers. "My good kitty, Gizmo."

Travis grows quiet and so does Sal. There's only Gizmo's rumbling purr and the rain - the horrible rain - beating against Addison's walls.

Sal is glad his dad isn't home.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading :3


End file.
